The Wonderful High School Life of Luck Gandor
by Queen Eli
Summary: Freshman Luck Gandor is sure his life is over when he arrives at his new high school for extremely gifted students, even with his friends and brothers on his side-that is, until he meets Dallas Genoard, a thug who protects him in exchange for aid in his classes, who happens to be a much different person than Luck originally thinks he is. [Modern day au, LuckDallas]


Julian Academy for the Educationally Gifted, or JAEG as its students and alumni faithfully called it, was the top school in New York. The best of the best, smartest of the smart, and often times, the richest of the rich attened school there. Almost more like a castle than a schoolhouse, its intimidating size and decorated walls indicated its status. It made poor freshman Luck Gandor feel terribly insignificant in his gray hoodie and jeans as he stood in front of the doors, binder clutched in trembling hands.

School had started two weeks ago, and before then, Luck's anciety kept him homeschooled. As soon as he'd received the letter from JAEG admissions office last Friday (a week late, but they sent him merch to apologize), he'd promptly been bought a new set of school supplies and shipped off by his brothers. Alas, there he was, shaking like a leaf in front of the doors, too afraid to go in.

No sooner than he'd decided that he'd rather die than go in there, a ball rang, and the front door swung open to reveal a much-too familiar freckled, red-haired face.

"What're you doing out here? You're supposed to be inside, Lucky," Claire Stanfield, his adopted brother, announced as he pulled him inside. "Can't make friends if you're standing outside!"

"Let me go," Luck squeaked when he was so rudely shoved into the man hall. He pulled away from Claire, but almost as soon as he did, he grabbed onto him again with fear.

The school was even scarier on the inside, Luck thought. It was too big, too fancy, and there were too many students. He hadn't even gotten to class yet and he was going to die—damn him, damn Claire, damn the school. Luck was so busy condemning everything around him to eternal damnation, in fact, that he didn't notice that Claire had dragged him right to his homeroom class.

"Well, since you came late, I guess I'm gonna hafta do everything for you," Claire mock-sighed, which made Luck's face flush. "See, this's your homeroom, which is basically social hour before the real teaching starts. All these kids in here? You're stuck with 'em until after all your morning core classes."

"Oh, perfect," Luck groaned. "Now if someone wants to kill me, they'll have at least five periods to do it."

"Aww, lighten up," Claire chided, elbowing him playfully. "'Sides, you've got me and Firo in there, too."

"Firo?" So now his best friend got to watch him get murdered. "What'd he get in here for?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but the kid's a soccer star," Claire retorted. "This school's not just for little nerds like you, Luck." He blushed even more at that. "Anyway, the only ones you might hafta look out for are gonna be Ladd Russo and whoever hangs out with him, and Eve Genoard's older brother, Dallas. He looks like an alley cat and's about as nice."

While he didn't enjoy the "nerd" comment, Luck decided to trust Claire's judgment. After all, he wouldn't knowingly lead Luck to his death—would he? He could only hope so as he plopped down into one of the seats in the front row. There was only one empty desk in the whole class to his right, and the seat to his left was occupied by a brown-eyed blonde girl who was chattering to a pretty red-haired girl behind her, who was smiling and nodding politely. Okay, that didn't seem too bad, at least. He'd be alright, he'd be okay, he tried to tell himself, if only to calm his rapidly beating heart.

And then, just like that, there was an ominous weight to his left, and Luck looked over to address it.

"Luck Gandor; that's your name, right?" Well, he did look like an alley cat. A rich alley cat. But even thought they had never met, Luck recognized the boy sitting next to him as Dallas Genoard. Why shouldn't he? Dallas and his cohorts caused the Gandors constant trouble, albiet indirect, his name wasn't spoken of lightly in their home.

"Yes," Luck peeped. He thought he might just puke right there. Then he gulped and stuttered, "Uh-uh-why?"

A smile, sharp and dangerous that lit up his eyes, crossed Dallas's face. "I thought so. You're the little smart brother, right?" Warding off a heart attack, Luck forced himself to nod. Now he knew it.

He was definitely going to die, and Dallas was going to be the one to kill him.


End file.
